


Trophy Mate

by Ms_Tassimo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Fluff, M/M, Smut, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 19:53:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10624005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ms_Tassimo/pseuds/Ms_Tassimo
Summary: Castiel Novak is thirty-five years old and in love with a man eleven years his junior. At work he’s a tyrant but at home he’s wrapped around Dean’s little finger. But when their age-gap begins to put a strain on their relationship, they’re left wondering if love is enough to get them through.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So this was supposed to be a one-shot smut fest which turned into a long-winded fluff/smut/angst fic through no fault of my own. I'll add tags as I go because hell knows where this is headed.

Cas hates mornings.

He hates opening his eyes and being greeted by the sun. He despises the lethargic feeling he gets when his body adjusts to being awake. And don’t even get him started on the arduous task of making breakfast. 

But he can hear shuffling behind him, the curve of his ass being teased by his mate’s erection.

“Dean, some of us have a 9-5 job and enjoy our weekend lie-ins,” Cas grumbles, his eyes firmly shut and trying to ignore the way Dean’s hands ghost over his torso. 

“And some of us are horny students who have work in an hour,” Dean quips, grazing his teeth against Cas’ jaw, tweaking his nipples cheekily. Cas lets out a groan, realising that  
Dean has won this particular battle and rolls to face the younger man. Dean’s face is triumphant, just as it always is when he demonstrates that he does in fact, have his grumpy Alpha wrapped around his finger.

“You’ll be late for work,” Cas warns, rolling on top of Dean, looking down at his mate’s bright face. Dean grins happily, reaching down for the boxers Castiel insists on wearing to bed, despite Dean’s argument that they never stay on for long.

_“It feels cleaner, Dean; I don’t like the sheets getting dirty.”_

_“Baby, the sheets are always dirty.”_

“Benny’ll forgive me,” Dean replies, tugging the offending fabric from Cas’ hips. Cas’ dick pops free, already hardening at the sight of the Omega below him. He growls softly, bowing his head and nicking the mating mark on the side of Dean’s neck, causing him to moan quietly, arching up. 

Cas shakes his head, moving his hands to Dean’s hips to keep him in place, giving his throat a nip in warning, earning him a startled squeak in response. When Castiel and Dean had first started seeing each other, the noises that the latter had made in bed would send the Alpha into a frenzy of instinctive sex that the pair of them would sleep for hours afterwards. Castiel, of course, had been mortified. Dean? Dean had been mindblown.

The squeak almost sends Cas over the edge but he holds himself; if Dean wanted morning sex, he was going to draw it out for as long as possible. Cas casts his gaze from his mate’s face downwards, drinking in the sight of his twitching torso, the erection bobbing hopefully against his abdomen. Dean’s legs splay out without prompting, and Cas dips his head, teasing his inner thigh with alternations of tongue and teeth, breathy moans escaping from the younger man. 

“Cas,” Dean whines, rocking his hips and earning a light tap in response.

“Patience,” Castiel murmurs, running his tongue up Dean’s length. Dean makes a noise which is undeniably not patient, tangling his fingers in Castiel’s hair. He jerks his head up, looking Dean in the eye, pupils dilated in animalistic want. 

Dean licks his lips slowly, lips parted slightly in a way that makes Castiel twitch. He looks so debauched, lying there with his legs spread, ready for the taking. His thighs are wet with slick and his cheeks are pink, and when Castiel pushes in, there’s no resistance there. The moan that escapes Dean is music to Castiel’s ears, his mating mark exposed as he tilts his head back. 

“Fucking move,” Dean demands, his eyes half-closed.

“You’re so demanding,” Castiel breathes, rocking his hips once. “So. Fucking. Demanding.” With every syllable, he thrusts deeper, revelling in the flush that is creeping its way up Dean’s chest, the sweat that’s beginning to form on both of their bodies.

Dean rocks back against Castiel, groaning softly. His eyes are closed, but Castiel wants to see everything. He loves the way Dean looks when they have sex; how he lets himself go, gives in to his Omega and just runs on instinct. 

He can feel his knot beginning to swell, feel Dean clenching around him, and he withdraws himself quickly, replacing his length with his fingers. Dean mewls loudly, thrusting back on Castiel’s digits as he starts to tense, hips trembling.

Castiel captures Dean’s lips with his own, swallowing Dean’s gasp as he comes. He rests his sweaty forehead against Dean’s, panting wildly. Dean’s got the blissed-out expression on his face, the one he gets when he’s in a state of utter contentment, and Castiel feels like crowing.

“Mmm,” Dean purrs, spreading himself out on the bed, his eyes closed. “Not sure I want to go to work now.” 

Cas laughs, kissing Dean’s forehead. 

“Go shower,” he murmurs. “I doubt Benny will be as forgiving if you tell him you’re late because you were having sex.”

“But if I tell him it was _good_ sex…” Dean grins, opening his eyes. “Besides, I need to finish you off.” Castiel shakes his head vigorously. 

“I’ll do it; go shower.”

Dean frowns slightly, sitting up and pressing his lips to Castiel’s.

“Sure?”

“Yeah.” He watches as Dean slides off the bed, slapping his ass as he saunters towards the bathroom, causing the younger man to jump. Castiel lies back on the bed, sorting his knot before Dean comes back out of the shower, smelling fresh and clean as he rummages for clothes.

“Can you put a wash on when I’m at work?” Dean asks hurriedly, buttoning his jeans. “I’m running low on underwear.”

“I’m sure that’s the Omega’s job in a relationship,” Castiel joked, sitting up and resting his back against the headboard. He has very little to do on a Saturday, and he knows he can spend an hour reading his book before he has to wrench himself from bed. 

Dean laughs, shaking his head.

“Think again, old man; I’d probably end up flooding the laundry room. And I don’t think you’d appreciate having to tile the place.” Dean waggles his eyebrows, leaning over and kissing Castiel lightly on the lips. “I’ll see you after work; make sure you’ve made food!”

Castiel rolls his eyes, pushing Dean away from him.

“Go!”

Dean laughs as he leaves the room, the sound of his footsteps going down the stairs echoing before the slam of the door makes the house shake. In the beginning, Castiel had tried to explain to Dean that the door hadn’t done anything wrong, and that it didn’t need to be slammed. He’d given up very quickly. 

When Cas started seeing Dean, he was the subject of office gossip; Mr Novak, tyrant and ruler of the workplace, seeing an Omega over ten years his junior. They had referred to Dean as a Trophy Mate, a midlife crisis that Cas was having a few years too early. And in the beginning, Cas worried about it. He worried that Dean would suddenly come to his senses and realise that he should be with someone his own age. 

That being said, Dean – for the most part – seemed to be quite happy with the arrangement. And any worries that Cas may have had at the beginning that Dean was just interested in money and a home, had been quashed when Dean took offence to Castiel offering to pay for dinner one evening. 

_“I got money, thanks.”_

And for a student, Dean always seems very reluctant to have anything given to him for nothing; he works his ass off every weekend at the tattoo parlour, in between doing work for his Postgrad. Secretly, Castiel loves how dedicated Dean is to his art; the younger man gets embarrassed sometimes about how enthusiastic he gets about pictures, and he almost died of excitement when Castiel first suggested they go to an Art gallery during one of their early dates.

It was, in fact, how he and Dean had first met. 

***

_“Gabriel, I don’t want any part of your silly dare game,” Castiel had sighed. “And I’m certainly not getting any tattoos.”_

_“Cassie, just come along; seize your youth,” Gabriel insisted. “While you still have it!”_

_Castiel rolled his eyes, tempted to just hang up the phone and continue work._

_“Wait! Just come with me and watch me get one done!” He realised quickly that Gabriel was probably not going to give up on this. And, so, it was with a weary tiredness that he found himself waiting outside the tattoo parlour, waiting for his younger brother to meet him._

_It was a relatively normal looking building, with large windows that were covered in spiralled designs, the desk just visible through the glass. It seemed empty enough, and hopefully Castiel could be in and out of there without anyone spotting him._

_“Sorry, a meeting ran late,” Gabriel panted, jogging towards him. “You should have just gone in!”_

_“I don’t want people to think that I’m losing my mind and getting a tattoo,” Castiel sniped. “You’re far too old to be getting body art, Gabriel, you’ll look ridiculous.” Gabriel just rolled his eyes, pushing the door open. As he entered, Castiel’s nose was assaulted with the smell of disinfectant and he wasn’t sure what to look at first. Artwork lined the walls, tattoo ideas presumably, and Castiel grudgingly admitted to himself that some of them looked quite nice._

_Just not on someone’s body._

_“You my two o’clock?”_

_Castiel looked around and suddenly he wasn’t remotely interested in the pictures on the walls. Instead, there was a man standing behind the desk; he was taller than Castiel, despite the fact he was leaning, strong, tattooed arms supporting a well-muscled body. A black t-shirt strained over a toned torso, giving way to slightly bowed legs.  
His face? Well, his face was just the icing on the cake; a spattering of freckles across a tanned, strong jaw. His eyes were a vibrant green and his dirty blonde hair stood on end. Castiel tried not to get distracted by the way his teeth sat on his lower lip, a mischievous smile making him seem young._

_“Yeah, that’s me,” Gabriel said. The man nodded, glancing at Castiel and winking before beckoning Gabriel towards a door behind him._

_“You’re welcome to watch,” the man said, staring right at Castiel._

_He just about managed to shake his head, trying not to break eye contact with the beautiful boy in front of him. Something in him stirred, an Alpha whisper that he had not heard since he was a teenager._

_“He doesn’t approve of tattoos,” Gabriel said brightly. “So he’ll wait out here and be the gloomy asshole that he is.”_

_Castiel wanted to die._

_The young man laughed, shaking his head as he disappeared through the door, Gabriel following him. Castiel wondered if it was possible to die of mortification, because he could feel his heart pounding and his head swimming._


End file.
